Heather Potter and the Mirror's Vision
by dreamkinen
Summary: A look into the life of Harry if there happened to have been a single changed chromosome. Follow Heather through her first year of Hogwarts, discovering new friends and re-appreciating old ones, as she faces Voldemort for the first time on the road to her destiny. Fem!Harry HarryxOC eventually rating will change in later years
1. Prologue

Heather Potter and the Mirror's Vision

Hello! This is my first fanfiction I have written, but I have been playing with this idea for some time. This is a FemHarry story, but I have added some hopefully interesting twists. Some I will reveal in the course of the story, but some should be known beforehand. This story is truly not only one genre, this is a story where Harry is left with the Dursleys, but the events that then occur will be changed, first subtly, then much more noticeably. This is due to of course, the gender change, but also me adding some twists that could have happened if Vernon had been just a little more cruel. You'll see what I mean soon. Also, I will have one original character to give Harry a love interest later, but he won't be important for quite a while. There will be other changes, but as I mentioned before, you will have to read to find out about them!

Now I am in college, and also right now in Israel. This means my hours are very odd for anyone in the states or anywhere not near here. But I will be writing at any chance I get. Also, I do not have an editor at this time, so I will be relying on reviews to know if I need to edit anything! This also means it may take a bit before I put up chapters, as I will want to read through them, and maybe rope in a friend or two to read it as well if I am lucky.

So this was my little introduction to my first story. I hope you wish to join me in Harry's, or should I say Heather's adventure into Witchcraft and Wizardry. See you soon!

Dreamkinen

Ladeedadeedoodeeday

I do not own any characters or places in this Universe. They all belong to one Mrs. Rowling, although I have gone to the liberty of changing some things!

Ladeedadeedoodeeday

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Prologue

April 14, 1980

It was a warm spring day in the village of Godric's Hollow when a car drove up to a decently sized cottage at the end of the road. This wouldn't be so odd if not for that fact that the driver of the car almost drove onto the grass instead of the welcoming-looking driveway, before leaving the car and stretching luxuriously, letting the gentle breeze ruffle his jet black hair. The other passenger took a moment to turn off the ignition with a gentle tap from a curious stick she took out of her purse before leaving as well. "You know there is no real point in driving if you waste the gas by not turning off the engine, James." She said sternly, although a humorous glint in her green eyes showed her amusement at her husband's antics. "Ah, but the healer said you aren't allowed to apparate until the baby comes, Lily" Said the man named James, taking the moment to walk around the car to give his wife a kiss on the cheek and rub her swelling belly. "I'm more likely to have problems with your driving than with a simple apparition" She said playfully, flicking her long auburn hair in James' face before walking gracefully into the house, leaving a slightly dazed James next to the car. He let out a soft chuckle, "That woman…" then ran in after her.

Laadeedadeedoodeeday

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July 31st -August 1st, 1980

James paced the waiting room of St. Mungo's Maternity Ward, the tension clear in his face. "You must relax, James, or Lily won't be the only one in the hospital tonight." Stated a calm man with light brown hair and curious gold-flecked eyes. "Moony is right for once. You're leaving a hole in the nice clean floor" Joked another black-haired man. The man called Moony gave this third man a look before gently leading the resistant James to an empty chair. "It's been 6 hours. The baby should be here by now" He said with a strained tone, taking the seat without seeming to truly notice what he was doing. "The baby will come when it is good and ready. But you have to be patient as well." Said Moony, putting a steady hand on his friend's shoulder. "Of course you're right, you're the sane one among us, Remus old buddy." James said, although the tension never left his face.

"Mr Potter?" A woman in lime-green robes called out from a hallway connected to the waiting room. James jumped up, as did Remus, the black-haired man, and a mousy-haired man with a round face who had so far been quiet. His own wife had given birth to a lovely boy earlier that day, and had stayed as moral support for James' and Lily's first child. The only one who stayed in his seat was a small man with brown hair and small, watery eyes. He simply wrung his hands in his seat, staring at the healer. The healer took a moment to adjust the papers in her hand before smiling "I am proud to announce you are now the father of a bouncing baby girl, born on July 31st, at 11: 55 pm. Only a moment later, and she would have been an August baby!" A round of congratulations, back-slapping, and hugging went around. James stood in place, the tension quickly evaporating from his face to be replaced by a kind of happy amazement. He seemed unable to form any words, so the other black-haired man took it upon himself to ask the healer, " When can our proud new father see his daughter?" The healer let out a laugh, before answering, "Mrs. Potter is ready at any time Mr…"

"Black, Sirius Black" He answered, tucking a strand of hair away from his face and smiling. " You never take a moment not to flirt, Do you Sirius?" Remus said with a glint in his eye, before once again gently steering the frozen James towards his wife and daughter's room.

James' stupor finally faded when he was left alone in the room with an exhausted, but glowing Lily and a curious shaped bundle in her arms. " Is that…?" He was able to finally choke out. Lily smiled gently at him and nodded. She also seemed at a loss for words. She held out the bundle, and James gently took it from her, eager to see the face of his new child. Out of the soft pink blankets came a shock of thick black hair and, surprisingly, an awake, alert face with wide green eyes. "She has your eyes." He whispered, sitting in the chair next to Lily's bed. Lily smiled again before finally saying, just as quietly, "I thought Heather was a good name for her, seeing as Harry wouldn't work so well in this case." James, never taking his eyes off the child in his arms, who seemed to decide she liked him enough to fall asleep, took his wife's hand, smiled, and said. "Heather, I like it."

Ladeedadeedoodeeday

* * *

November 2nd, 1981

It was 6 in the morning, and Privet Drive was all but silent. The residents of the carefully trimmed street were just waking up, although Petunia Dursley of Number 4, Privet drive had been awake for about half an hour now, dealing with her son Dudley, who had taken it upon himself to become the house's personal alarm clock. But now was the time to take a break from his antics in order to drop off the milk for the milkman, who would be arriving any minute. But on the stoop was not empty space, awaiting her used milk bottles, but a bundle of blankets with a small hand and a letter poking out. Thus, Mrs. Dursley's morning started with a crash and two screams.

Later

"I WILL NOT HAVE THAT, THAT, _THING_ IN MY HOUSE!" Boomed the large, beefy man, disturbing the peace of the spotless living room where his wife stood, shielding the bundle in her hands. This was an argument that had been going on from the moment he had woken up to find his wife feeding a baby who was much too small to be his own child. Normally, Petunia sided with her husband, Vernon, on all things. She had been prepared to hate her sister's child as well, when they had been talking about it the previous day. But one look into green eyes and round baby face took her back many years, when her own mother let her hold Lily after they came home from the hospital, although this child had black hair and a crusted-over wound on her forehead. It reminded her of the good times with her sister, something she had not thought about for many years.

So for the first time since they got married, Petunia looked into Vernon's eyes and said, "I cannot call this baby a _thing_, now that I have held her in my arms." Vernon was silenced for a moment by this statement. Only twenty-four hours ago, they were agreeing that her sister's folk were not to be mentioned, and Petunia was snorting in disgust at the thought of the spawn of her sister and the man Potter. Now his wife was protecting the very child she scorned. He quickly gained control again, and, in a much more quiet, much more deadly voice. "Fine, if you wish to care for this _child_," the word was almost spit out of his lips, " You can do it without me. You are to leave this house by tonight, with that, or get rid of it." With that, he turned on his beefy heel, and walked into the kitchen, where his son was wailing, wondering why no one was paying any attention to him.

Ladeedadeedoodeeday

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I believe that to be a good stopping point for the Prologue. I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter may take anywhere from a day to a week for me to write, possibly a little more. This is not a child-fic, so I will be time-skipping to when Heather and Dudley are in their 11th summers. I don't want to spoil too much, though I will say that Vernon in no way has any right to Dudley, both Petunia and Child Services will take care of that nonsense. Also, Petunia will have grown as a person, so I will try to make sure the changes aren't too OOC, but 10 years have past, and people can change quite a bit in that time!

Well, anyway, before I spoil too much, I'll hopefully see you all soon!


	2. 1 Petunia's Guilt

Hello again! Don't worry; this blurb will be much shorter. So I am actually starting this chapter before I even put up the prologue, but if there are any inconsistencies, I will change them before uploading. Although It still took a while to write, sorry! I don't think this will be happening too much, as it is more because of procrastination than time constraints. Either way, enjoy chapter 1!

Dreamkinen

Ladeedaadeedoodeeday

* * *

I have no part in the ownership in anything in the Harry Potter universe. All of this belongs to JK Rowling.

Ladeedaadeedoodeeday

* * *

Chapter 1

It was to a clear summer morning that, in the center of London, a girl was interrupted from motorcycle filled dreams by a boy with short, blonde hair jumping on her bed. "Heather! Get up now! You have to get into the kitchen!" He yelled in her ear. Sometimes it really sucked to share a room with that pudgy ball of energy. Truly, Dudley Evans was not fat; he could barely be called pudgy even. His blonde hair had been shaved after an incident with lice at their school, and he stood with a layer of baby fat that softened his edges, although he was nowhere near as skinny as the girl who was now finally dragging herself out of bed to stop her cousin's very loud demands.

"All right, just give me five minutes to get dressed." Heather mumbled, her eyes still closed, dragging a hand through her short, messy black hair. Heather did not have to cut her hair along with Dudley, it seemed that her lice had all mysteriously disappeared before she could be treated. But Dudley grabbed her hand and started dragging her out of the room. Being quite a bit taller than the scrawny girl, with the extra weight, meant that this was not a hard task. "You can get dressed later, but you have to come to the kitchen _now_!" He told her. So the tired, and not totally aware Heather let herself be led through the flat to their kitchen, where one Petunia Evans was waiting.

"You are going to have to open your eyes, dearest." Petunia said. Her voice was naturally high pitched, but she had been working on keeping her volume down, sounding downright gentle right now.

Hearing the voice of her favorite, and possibly only aunt, Heather forced her sleep-filled eyes to open. In front of her was a full breakfast spread, with pancakes and bacon, and even whipped cream. The room had been decorated with paper chains and what looked like Dudley's attempts at drawing balloons. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEATHER!" Dudley and Petunia screamed, while Dudley enveloped his surprised cousin in a large hug. Heather had known her birthday was coming up, but she never expected anything special. But then, she had helped her aunt in setting up Dudley's birthday only a few months ago. They had not been able to afford both balloons and a cake at that point either.

"I know what you are thinking with the balloons." Petunia said, keeping aside while Dudley still clung to Heather. Petunia still had trouble hugging Heather, although it was more from an odd fear of breaking her. Heather was clearly able to handle her own, but Petunia held back anyway. Both girls had their own way of showing their love. "But I decided eleven warranted a better present then usual. It also meant I had to be a little more inventive with the cake." For Petunia, who liked to bake almost as much as she loved to clean, this could mean quite a difference. "But cake and presents come later. So come on, dig in, we have a lot to do today." She said cheerfully. At the mention of food, Dudley regretfully untangled himself from Heather, and all three sat at the kitchen table to eat Heather's birthday breakfast.

It was a rule in the Evans/Potter house that cake and presents came last in the day. This started early on, when Petunia and the children were still living off temp jobs and government welfare, and couldn't afford every piece of a traditional birthday party. Now Petunia had a stable secretarial position at a law firm, and was able to afford night classes for herself, which she had started in the previous year, along with the ability to splurge a bit for two days out of the year. The children were usually able to do something for her birthday as well.

After breakfast, which Heather found as delicious as the previous year, she was finally allowed to return to her room and get dressed. It was regretful that some of Heather's clothes were handed down from Dudley, but luckily one of Heather's friends' moms could sew, and hemmed them down so they could fit Heather. She also took the liberty of making some of the more boring pieces a bit more feminine. It was one of these shirts she put on, along with a pair of thankfully new and correctly sized jeans. Petunia's new job meant that Heather had fewer hand-me-downs and more new clothes in the past two years.

After she finished getting dressed and tugging a comb through her hair, Heather looked in the mirror in the room, analyzing her new, eleven-year-old self. She could still fit in clothes from two years ago, although both her aunt and her friend's mom said soon she would have other problems than just her height to worry about when choosing clothes. Her black hair was cut to just below her chin, in fear of having it any longer and the tangles that would ensue. It wasn't that her hair was curly, just that no matter what she did, it would not sit straight. This gave it a constantly messy look, although keeping it short controlled the problem fairly well. But Heather never had any problems with her eyes. Bright green and curiously almond shaped, Aunt Petunia always said it gave her face an exotic feel that would have boys swooning when she was older. It was an odd thing to say to a child, but then Aunt Petunia said some pretty odd things sometimes. But all in all, Heather couldn't find very much different between herself now and herself only a day ago.

Before leaving the room though, Heather pulled back her fringe, as she did every day, to examine the lightning bolt scar on her forehead. It was not something she showed off very often, and according to her Aunt she had it from the day she went into her care. This made Heather believe it had something to do with her once-uncle, with whom Dudley had spent a year with before the divorce had been settled. But Petunia quickly put that theory to rest. Vernon Dursley was a horrible man, Dudley still had nightmares from that experience, but he had never been allowed to touch her. But that was all Petunia would say about the subject of the scar, other than that it has something to do with her parent's murder, before Petunia would get misty eyed and say she would tell her when she was older. But maybe, Heather hoped, this year she would finally be old enough.

"Took you long enough to get down here." Dudley said half-jokingly once Heather had finally made it back to the kitchen. The young girl simply rolled her eyes at her cousin and sat back down at the table to wait for Petunia, who according to Dudley had gone t get the mail. They began to pass the time by Heather quizzing Dudley on various things they had learned the year before. This was a game they had started when Dudley had begun to fall behind in third grade. This quickly stopped when Petunia came back, stone-faced, with a letter made of some sort of thick parchment in her hand.

Neither child had ever seen Petunia that grave. Truly, she had never had a reason to since she began her therapy sessions that had been suggested by child-care after she filed for guardianship of Heather. It was Heather who spoke up first, after a few tense seconds where Petunia seemed at a loss for words.

"Who's that letter for? It looks like something a rich person would write on." She piped up, both out of curiosity and an attempt to break the tension. Suddenly, Petunia put the letter down on the table and moved to hug Heather, before faltering and simply putting a hand on her shoulder. This scared both Heather and Dudley, enough for Dudley to pick up the letter before his mother had a chance to snap out of herself and read out the address written on it: "Heather Potter, second bedroom, Apartment 304 Gardner Street, London. Who would be writing to Heather like this?" Dudley asked, before turning the letter over to examine the seal on the back. "And it has a crest too!" He added, gently fingering the wax "H". Petunia gently removed the letter from Dudley's pudgy hands with her own shaking ones and handed to Heather, who began to softly shake as well. "There's something I need to explain to you Heather, something I was foolishly hoping could wait just a little while longer." Petunia began, her voice uncharacteristically low and soft, "You aren't like Dudley and I, although some part of me always wished you would be." At this, Petunia seemed too choked up to speak, and simply motioned for Heather to open the letter. So, with shaking hands, the young girl broke the seal and began to read aloud: "Dear Miss Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Heather paused here to look at her cousin, who was staring at her with his mouth open, and her Aunt, who had her face buried in her hands. " Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. Due to your upbringing, a representative will be by tomorrow to explain the proceedings and help you get ready for the term. You may give your answer at that time." Now it was Heather's turn to be silent. The entire kitchen seemed to be frozen in time, until Dudley, with an air of someone who just found out it had rained during a beach visit, said, " So, have you decided where we are going today, Heather?"

After a silent trip through the Underground, the Evanses and Potter finally seemed to have realized the day was being wasted quickly and were able to have fun at the amusement park, one of Heather's favorite places to be. Petunia bought both children ice pops before letting them off to have fun on the condition that they were to meet up for lunch. They went on as many rides as possible, although they held off on the ferris wheel, Heather's all-time favorite attraction, until later, when the entire family would ride it together. They had lunch at the food court in the park, where they enjoyed burgers and Petunia bought both a chocolate bar for dessert. The family didn't go out to eat very often, as it was cheaper, and sometimes tastier, for Petunia to simply cook at home, so the burgers were almost a delicacy for Heather and Dudley. Afterwards, they played a few games, where Dudley succeeded in winning a good-sized teddy bear from one of the shooting games, declaring it his birthday present to Heather. Soon enough it was time for the ferris wheel.

Heather always had a love for being up in the air, and the ferris wheel was the closest she could find to flying in her little world. They went on it every year for her birthday, but this year felt different for some reason. Maybe it was because her Aunt seemed to lose the will to talk as they neared the top, or that Dudley, who was a very dense person, knew not to talk for once. But Heather, for the first time, simply wanted the ride to be over so life could continue as normal. But there was no way of that happening, and it seemed that she was going to have to start the conversation.

"Aunt Petunia?" she began, warily, keeping her voice soft, as the woman sitting in front of her seemed ready to jump out of her skin at the slightest confrontation. "This morning, you said I'm not like you and Dudley, and that letter was talking about witches and wizards as if they were real. What is happening?" There was a thick silence in the cabin as both Heather and Dudley waited for Petunia to speak.

They had stopped at the top of the wheel by the time Petunia found her voice again. " I loved my sister. Loved her with all my heart. But she had something I didn't have, and I let my jealousy and pain affect our relationship. And when I met Vernon… it all seemed so clear… I didn't even go to their wedding." Both children started slightly at the name of Dudley's biological father. There was another pause as Petunia attempted to gather her thoughts again, "I found out about you from the Christmas card you mother insisted on sending, and let Vernon's opinion on your family affect my judgment. I threw out the card, even though that would be the last I heard of my dear sister."

Heather and Dudley exchanged glances. Neither child had ever heard this side of the story. They had known that Heather's parents were good people, and assumed that both sides of the family got along quite well before the murder. Petunia seemed to be ridding herself of some pent-up guilt, but she still hadn't answered Heather's question, and was truly worrying her more. Why did her once-Uncle hate her so much? Did she and her mother have some sort of genetic issue she should know about? But before she could ask, Petunia began to talk again.

"I always thought what my sister could do was wonderful. She was never a freak no matter what I said. She picked an amazing husband, and had a beautiful daughter. I just couldn't see it until I held you in my arms, and everything was already lost." Petunia looked at Heather with tear-filled eyes, and took her hand. " Please don't take my ramblings to heart, Heather. You aren't different because anything is wrong with you. You have something I have been wishing and praying for my entire life: You have magic."

Heather stared at her Aunt, open-mouthed in shock, until I slight thump and a bell told them that the ride was over, and it was another family's turn. Dudley took Heather's other hand and the small family stepped out of the cabin and into the still-bright afternoon. They would be able to get home just in time for a birthday dinner, presents, and cake.

The night wore on and the party went on as planned, but Heather barely noticed what was going on around her, even as Petunia revealed a cake made out of individual cupcakes (for easy storage later), and her cousin and aunt gave her a new sweater she had been eyeing. She almost didn't notice when her best friend Lindsay arrived with a hug and a new charm for the bracelet she had gotten the year before. Petunia seemed to be attempting to remain as busy as possible, so as to delay the conversation that was never finished. But soon the food was eaten and there was nothing left to clean, and Heather was waiting at the doorway of the kitchen, with Dudley seemingly attempting to hide behind her, unsuccessfully.

Seeing this odd site, which, albeit, happened fairly often in the household, either when one of the children wanted something, or Dudley was in trouble, Petunia smiled for the first time since that morning. They were still her children after all, and nothing would change that. There was also no way of keeping no-nonsense about it with Heather looking at her like that.

"I owe you an apology Heather. I let my own insecurities control me, and it led you to missing a key aspect of yourself for all this time." Petunia said, bending down to look Heather in the eye. The young girl looked like she was ready to run back to her room, but she kept eye contact. "I don't know much. So why not we both ask some questions for whoever is coming tomorrow." Heather didn't move for a moment, but finally gave a small nod. She was having trouble talking. It was a bit much to find out that for her entire life, a secret like this was being kept from her. But she couldn't not trust her aunt, who had raised her and Dudley away from Vernon, simply because she kept a secret. Heather almost wanted to believe it was all a joke, but something in Petunia's eyes said this was completely real. But if this was a dream come true, and she had _magic_, maybe life would become better for all of them.

Petunia smiled at her young niece, and her son, who seemed to think the tension had diffused enough to come out of hiding, and returned to her normal, slightly sharper tone. "Well then, off to bed. Just because it's summer doesn't mean you get to stay up all night. That means you too Dudley." Both children giggled a bit, and then ran down the hall to their bedroom, ready for tomorrow, and whatever awaited them there.

Ladeedaadedoodeeday

* * *

Well, that was Chapter 1! I attempted to make sure Petunia kept her normal, bossy demeanor, but she has had 10 years to look at her life and make a few changes. This includes the therapy. Child services would have seen how Dudley was when he was still spoiled rotten, then later on with his father, and wanted to make sure Petunia hadn't been affected by her ex-husband in any way, and might have found some of her own insecurities at the same time. So she will be a changed woman. But that doesn't mean she won't take some liberties she regrets later, such as letting her buried jealousy affect Heather knowing about her past. But it will all be sorted eventually ^_^

But anyways, see you all next time!

Dreamkinen


	3. 2 An Interesting Visitor

So this is the chapter where Heather gets some questions answered and begins her journey into witchcraft. Not much else to say except enjoy!

I have no rights to anything in the Harry Potter world except my own original characters. This is a fan made production.

Ladeedaadeedoodeeday

* * *

Chapter 2

The next day dawned bright and warm, and so normal that Heather wondered whether yesterday had all been a dream. But Dudley was still asleep in the bed across from her, and there was a stain on one of her shirts from the burger at the park. Also, as the young girl slowly got out of bed and walked across the hall to the bathroom, there was an odd feeling like something great was going to happen that day. Maybe Aunt Petunia was making something special for breakfast.

She had already finished brushing her teeth and was half way through getting dressed that she remembered that they were expecting a guest from the school that day, and that the something great was that magic, according to her Aunt and the mysterious letter, was real, and she was a part of it. She quickly switched her top for one of her nicer blouses and put on one of her better pairs of jeans. Aunt Petunia always told them to look good in front of company, and that couldn't be more true when she was being tested for a private school. This had to be a test, as there was no way they would just let her in, especially with their financial background and the fact that she had no knowledge of magic. But then again, Heather pondered as she dragged a comb through her hair, maybe magic was a code word for being gifted, She did fairly well in school, but was nowhere near top marks. But it made the most sense. She had to keep sense in mind, just in case this was all a trick, although she hoped it wasn't.

After one last look in the mirror (She hoped jeans would be fine, Heather always had problems with skirts), she threw a pillow to wake Dudley up, then went to the kitchen, where Petunia already had breakfast set up.

"Morning Aunt Petunia, how long have you been up?" Heather asked, sitting down at the table. "Not too long, just decided I would make breakfast today." The older woman said airily. That was a lie. Heather could tell that the kitchen table was cleaner than it had been last night. Petunia had probably been up for a few hours making sure every last speck of dust and dirt was out of the kitchen, and, quite possibly, some other rooms as well. It was something her Aunt did when she was upset or nervous, and Heather knew her well enough to see the signs.

"Well, breakfast looks great. We don't have pancakes often enough." The young girl stated, placing some pancakes from the serving dish onto her plate. There was no bacon, but then she wasn't as fond of it as her cousin anyways. As said cousin walked, bleary-eyed, to the kitchen table and began to pile his plate with the food, Heather noticed, "There's more food than usual here."

"That's because we don't know when our guest will be arriving. I wouldn't want them to think us inhospitable. I will make some tea if they arrive later." Her aunt replied with her usual brisk tone. "Plus", she added, her face breaking out into a small smile. " Dudley will eat it if our guest doesn't." Heather giggled as Dudley looked up from his food at the sound of his name, before everyone dug in.

Their guest didn't come that morning, and, although Petunia did not let either child out in case they came, the guest didn't come at lunch either. It wasn't until around teatime, when Petunia began pondering if she would need to bring out some cups for tea, when the whole flat shook from a bang on the door. Heather ran into the kitchen with a shocked look on her face, Dudley not far behind. "Was that a bomb? Should we do something?" Heather had never heard anything that sounded like that other than that one time they went to see the fireworks display, and had definitely never heard it anywhere near her home. "I do believe that would be the door. Please answer it, Heather." Petunia replied, as calmly as she could manage in front of two fearful children. Heather paused for a second, unsure, then nodded and went over to the door.

Heather opened the door, which seemed a bit worse for wear now, to the scene of the largest man she had ever seen, hunched into the hallway, poised to knock again. Taking in the wild hair style, the large coat, and odd pink umbrella of the stranger at her door, Heather felt she finally knew what is meant to be frozen from shock. Luckily, the giant in front of her broke the spell by smiling, which succeeded in making the man look less ferocious, but no smaller. "You mus' be Heather! Well, I haven't seen you since you were a baby!" The giant said, holding out a garbage lid-sized hand for her to shake. With trembling hands, Heather shook the giant's hand, or, more accurately, shook one of his fingers. Suddenly remembering her manners, Heather squeaked out, " Please, come inside and have a seat."

The giant, at Heather's invitation, sidestepped into the room and sat on the couch, which groaned under his weight. " Sorry I too' so long, There are just too many buildin's in London with sim'lar names." He said, conversationally. Dudley was standing behind one of the other chairs, staring unabashedly at the strange man. Petunia was still in the kitchen, but she must have been able to hear everything that was going on. So it was once again Heather who said, cautiously, " I'm sorry, but I don't think I remember you."

The giant looked taken aback for a moment, before throwing his great hairy head back and laughing, the action once again seeming to lessen his appearance, " Well o' course you wouldn't remember me! My name is Rubeus Hagrid, though mos' just call me Hagrid," His chest swelled with pride, " Keeper of the keys an' grounds at Hogwarts."

"Wait," Heather said with sudden excitement, " Hogwarts? That was the school mentioned in my letter! I have to know, when you say m-magic, do you mean the actual-" Heather seemed at a loss for words here, and simply waved her arms in an attempt to show what she meant. Hagrid smiled again, and Heather was able to notice his kind black eyes under his wild hair, " Yep, all true. I even went there as a student."

Heather paused again; it felt like one of those dreams where everything goes just as it is supposed to. " So that means I'm really a-a-"

"A witch?" Hagrid helped her out. Heather nodded hesitantly.

"Yes, Yes it does," A weight seemed to lift off her shoulders, but still, " I just don't understand, why? How?" As more of the information seemed to sink in, Heather was having more and more trouble forming complete sentences. At this point, she just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Well, Heather, how much has your Aunt told ya' then?" Hagrid asked. This question felt a little loaded. " W-well, she told me I was a witch last night, and that my parents were magical before they were killed. But that's about it." Hagrid looked at her sadly, Heather couldn't tell whether she had answered correctly or not. He then patted the couch, which groaned dangerously once again, indicating her to sit. She declined, but stepped a bit closer to the giant. Hagrid sent a glowering look to the direction of Dudley and Petunia, who it seemed had stepped out of the kitchen with a plateful of tea and biscuits a while ago. " It's not her fault. Aunt Petunia said told me everything she knows. She said she was only told parts of the story." Hagrid looked slightly mollified at this statement, and said, "Well, shoulna have expected a muggle to know much else."

"I'm sorry, muggle?" Heather asked. She was a bit more comfortable now that the giant didn't seem to want to verbally attack her aunt. Hagrid answered, also once again calm, "That our term fer non-magic folk. Like yer aunt an' cousin here. Not disrespectful, just the term. Now, I can see in yer eyes you ha' a much more pressing question."

The giant had given her an opening, but she didn't know how to word what she wanted to ask. "I just don't understand, well, how I'm a-a-" Hagrid once again finished her sentence, "A witch?" At Heather's hesitant nod, Hagrid chuckled, "Well, shoulda expected that." He leaned in conspiratorially, causing another groan from the suffering couch, "Well, Heather, Ha' you ever done somethin', anythin' you can't explain, when you were angry, or scared?"

Heather thought back to that time that those bullies had found the kittens she and Lindsay had been raising, and they had disappeared from under their hands, only to reappear at an adoption agency a few weeks later, or when she was somehow able to make it to the top of the school building when those same bullies cornered her. Then there was the unforgettable, possibly two-sided conversation she had had with her class' pet snake.

The look in Heather's eyes as she reminisced was all Hagrid needed, " So yeh believe me now, righ'?" Heather nodded, but she still had one more question, "But I don't know if I can afford this school. The letter made it look really fancy."

Hagrid examined the young girl in front of him with his beetle-black eyes, " Yeh really think you're parents left you with nothing?" He pointed out to her. "Plus, Hogwarts accepts anyone with magical abilities in Great Britain, and yer name's been on her list since the day you were born. No matter wha' if yeh want to go to Hogwarts, yeh will be going to Hogwarts."

The excitement, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from her Aunt and Cousin, was clear on Heather's face. She really was going to learn magic! She wouldn't be able to go to school with Dudley though, he would have to figure out math himself for the rest of the school life. And She would be leaving Petunia to deal with the chores, as Dudley was rubbish with most of them. Her face fell as she realized just how much of her life she would be losing. She looked over to her Aunt, still standing at the doorway, holding the platter.

Petunia could see the emotions as they played across her niece's face. Heather would be worrying about them, and that just wouldn't do. "Heather, go to school, Dudley and I will manage just fine. I might be able to shove some basic manners in him without his human shield around."

Heather smiled, her Aunt, no matter how brisk her voice may have sounded, was trying to cheer her up. She turned to the giant and, trying as hard as she could to look confident, nodded her head. "Okay, so I am going to Hogwarts then. What happens next?"

Hagrid beamed at Hogwarts' newest student. "Now, we get yer supplies."

Ladeedaadeedoodeeday

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Wow that took a while to write. I guess I should explain myself a bit. As I began this chapter, I realized I had no idea how to properly write Hagrid. Luckily, a friend of mine helped me out a bit so he didn't sound Scottish. You are all picturing a Scottish Hagrid now, aren't you :). Then Exam week started, and all my time was spent either writing two 10 page essays while using sources I could only get at school, or studying for my Hebrew test. So it took a week or two longer than it should have to write this chapter. But it's done, and I quite like it. Hope you enjoyed it as well! I can't say exactly when the next chapter will be, but I'm going for faster than this one. And then you get to see Diagon Alley!

Also, thank you for your kind reviews, I look forward to seeing you next time!

Dreamkinen


	4. Of Goblins and Confusion

And Chapter 3 is here! See how Heather takes to her first taste of the wizarding world, and learns some special stories! Enjoy! Also, I did not mean each chapter to be one day long, that's just how it's been working out so far.

Everything in this story belongs to JK Rowling except for my Original Characters.

Ladeedaadeedoodeeday

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Chapter 3

Hagrid slept over that night, saying that they would need most of the day to get everything they needed, and he wanted Heather to have as much time as possible to see the sights. This meant that he and Petunia had enough time to have their own conversation, while Heather took a turn cooking dinner and Dudley attempted to listen in to their conversation while pretending to study. When Petunia entered the kitchen again to help Heather finish up and tell Dudley to set a makeshift table in the living room, she seemed, if not calmer, then at least a bit placated. Dudley and Heather were just excited to be able to eat in front of the TV, although it turned out that it was turned off for the entire meal. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful, except for when the couch finally gave in under Hagrid's weight, and, with a guilty tap with his pink umbrella, Hagrid fixed it. Heather and Dudley both clapped at this show of magic, although Hagrid told them to keep it secret, " Not supposed to use magic, see? 'Least now tha' I got yeh." Hagrid sat on the floor for the rest of the meal, and slept with two of their spare blankets in the corner of the living room.

Heather was the first one awake the next morning, not even bothering to wake up Dudley, she was told they would need as much time as possible to get her things. When she went to the living room to check on Hagrid, she found him tying a letter to the leg of a ruffled-looking owl. "Just tellin' 'em I got ya and yer safe." He said as he finished the job and handed the bird to Heather. "Would ya mind showing this here owl to an open window? Can't seem to find one in this room." Heather nodded, speechless at seeing and holding a real life owl. She took it to her room, where it pecked her affectionately and flied out the open window. The young girl shook her head as she made her way back to the giant in the living room. There was definitely a good amount of things she was going to have to get used to.

Breakfast that morning was a hurried affair, as Heather wanted to leave as soon as possible, and Petunia was having trouble thinking of a good conversation to have with Hagrid in the room. But soon enough everyone was done, the dishes were in the sink, and Petunia and Heather had convinced Dudley that it was better for Heather to do this without them. Heather had her knapsack and her small amount of pocket change she had, even though Hagrid had told her she has her trust fund from her parents, it always felt good to have something of her own. Hagrid also told her that the money would be no good in the wizarding world, but it was a start anyways.

The walk was fairly uneventful. It turned out that Heather, according to Hagrid at least, lived fairly close to the wizarding shopping district they were going to. This, however, made no sense to Heather, as she had certainly never seen a single wizard near her house, not that she knew was a wizard looked like, other than Hagrid. But if all wizards looked like Hagrid, there may be something wrong. Heather became even more confused once Hagrid stopped in front of a dingy pub called _The Leaky Cauldron_ on the corner of the street.

"Um, Mr. Hagrid? Are you sure this is the place?" Heather asked tentatively, looking up at the pub's sign swaying in the slight breeze. " 'Course it is. Gotta kee' it hidden fro' the muggles. Don't notice the gate this way, do they?" He said, looking down at his charge for the day. "And just call me Hagrid. No need to be so formal." He added, ruffling her hair and knocking her forward slightly. Heather looked back up, attempting to smooth out her now even messier hair, and nodded, still unsure. Hagrid smiled under his main of dark hair, "Well come on, haven't got all day." Heather then took his large hand, or, more accurately, his forefinger, and let him lead her into the pub.

Inside the Leaky Cauldron was surprisingly clean and cheery compared to the outside, although that wasn't saying much. The air smelled of an interesting sweet smell she couldn't identify, and everyone was talking, creating a warm atmosphere. As soon as she and Hagrid stepped into the light, an old, bald man came up to them and shook Hagrid's hand. "Ah, Hagrid, wasn't expected you today. The usual then?" He said as he smiled, revealing a mouth with only a few teeth. "Not today Tom, I'm here strictly on Hogwarts business." He said, puffing his large chest proudly and patting Heather on her shoulder, once again coming close to knocking her to the ground.

"Merlin's beard, is that Heather Potter?" The whole pub became hushed as Tom made this announcement. Then, suddenly it was louder than ever as everyone in the pub rushed forward to greet a very flustered Heather and shake her hand. She shook so many hands in that ten-minute interval, some people more than once, that she had trouble keeping all the names straight. She caught a Dedalus Diggle, a Doris Crockford, and a stuttering man named Quirrel who, according to Hagrid, was a teacher at Hogwarts. If all her teachers were that nervous, she wasn't sure she could keep her patience very well. But soon enough Doris finished shaking her hand for the fifth time, and Hagrid was able to cut the crowd, and steer Heather towards a door in the back of the room.

Through the door was a normal seeming alley, and once again Heather, who was still slightly flustered from the attention she had just received, looked up at Hagrid with confusion. But he hadn't noticed her unspoken question, as he was took busy fiddling with his large, pink umbrella and mumbling under his breath. "Righ' this should be it." He said with an air of finality, and tapped a brick on the wall with his umbrella. All of a sudden the wall began to shake as the bricks rotated against themselves, slowly creating a hole in the wall. When the bricks finally fell back into place, they had created a large archway framing the strangest street Heather had ever seen.

Everywhere she looked were bright colors and wonderful looking shops. It was crowded, and all of the shoppers were wearing long robes that seemed ill suited for the summer heat. Now that she thought about it, everyone in the pub was wearing robes or had robes draped over their seats. That must just be the fashion. There were shoppers going in an out of stores with fantastical names, the closest she could see being Flourish and Blotts, and another shop that seemed to be dedicated to cauldrons. Everywhere was the chatter of happy shoppers, and children of various ran under everyone's feet. She even saw a building filled with bottles of what she could only guess were ingredients, and another filled with some of the most fantastical animals she had ever seen. There was so much to see, and all of a sudden her pocket change seemed meager in comparison to the amount of things she could do here. Luckily, Hagrid answered the question that was creeping into her mind.

"So, firs' things firs', let's get yeh some money. Can't be buyin' yer school things with nothin'!" Hagrid said cheerily, steering Heather towards a large, fancy looking white building. She had been so immersed in the colors of the street; it was no wonder Heather only just noticed it now.

The building truly was magnificent, made of white marble with a large plaque placed next to the two large doors. On this plaque was a curious poem that Heather took a moment to bend down and read:

_Enter stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Gringotts Bank. Safes' place in the world to hide something, next to Hogwarts, o' course. Owned, operated, and guarded by goblins." Hagrid answered the question she was about to ask. It was only at the mention of goblins that Heather looked up and saw one of these guards, a small, swarthy creature with long fingers and toes, staring out into the street with distaste. It took a moment before Hagrid caught her attention again, "Come on Heather, no time fer dillydallyin'." He said, opening one of the doors so she could enter the bright hall.

The inside of the bank once again made Heather stop and stare. It was a long, carpeted hall, once again made of white marble. Two long tables on each side, populated by more goblins, interrupted the brightness of the walls. Each goblin was working diligently, some writing on long strips of parchment, other measuring bowls of shining rubies or glowing sapphires. She and Hagrid stopped in front of one of the writing goblins who, without looking up at them, said in a gruff voice, "State your name and business here."

Heather attempted to squeak out her name, she had never felt so tongue tied in her life, and was saved by Hagrid once again. "Rubeus Hagrid, on Hogwarts business and this here's Heather Potter, here to withdraw some money from her vault. The goblin looked up for the first time at the mention of Heather's name. Why was everyone so interested in her? But the Goblin soon lost his sudden interest and said, bored, "Do you have the key to her vault?" Hagrid nodded, and began rummaging into his large coat, "I got it here somewhere," He mumbled as he began removing things from his pockets, and placing them in front of the not particularly amused goblin. Heather saw some strange coins, a couple claws, and even some live mice end up on the table before Hagrid finally let out an accomplished sound and held out a small gold key. " 'ere it is! Heather's key! And also, " He put the key on the table and, this time much more quickly, extracted a slightly rumpled letter and handed it to the goblin, before filling his pockets back up with their contents, "We'll need to stop at _that_ vault today as well." He added mysteriously. The goblin read through the letter before taking the key and giving a curt nod. "Griphook will be leading you today, then. Griphook!" The goblin shouted the last word, and a smaller goblin came up. He read the letter, also nodding, and took the key, before saying, "Well, Mr. Hagrid, Miss Potter, please follow me.

Griphook led them through a door in the back of the hall that, instead of leading to another room like Heather expected, led to what seemed to be the beginning of a cave system. Cutting through it was a track with a single cart on it. Griphook took a lit lamp from a shelf next to the door and gestured towards the cart. "I will lead you to your vaults. The young mistress' vault first, of course." Heather, still apprehensive, followed Hagrid onto the cart. "Hagrid," She began, but one look at Hagrid silenced her. His eyes were shut tight and he was gripping the cart as hard as possible. Just as she began to wonder what would make Hagrid act this way, Griphook started the cart.

It was the craziest roller coaster Heather had ever been on, going at top speed through the caves, turning so many times she began to get dizzy herself. She had a feeling that anyone who tried to steal from here would have trouble even making it to the vaults. But soon enough, the cart stopped in front of a small door. Heather stepped out first, slightly shaky, followed by a very green Hagrid. While the giant took a moment to regain his bearings, Griphook took the key and opened the door, revealing the most money Heather had ever seen in her life.

There were piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins, stacked taller than her head in some places. It made all the money her aunt had ever made seem like a child's allowance. "Those gold ones be Galleons. The silver are Sickles, and the little bronze ones are Knuts." Heather jumped slightly when Hagrid spoke from behind her. He seemed to have regained himself a bit, but was still slightly pale. "I really hate them bloody carts." He added, throwing a dark look at the innocent-seeming cart, sitting on the track. He helped her remove an adequate amount of money from the vault and place it into a bag he had with him, all the while explaining how much each was worth, "Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty nine Knuts to a Sickle. Now to vault seven hundred and thirteen please."

After another race through the tunnels, going deeper and farther than Heather thought London could even go, they stopped in front of another door, this one with no sign of a lock. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen." Griphook announced, before stepping out of the cart and walking up to the door. Just as another question began to form on Heather's tongue, Griphook placed stroked the door, which melted away under his fingers. "That's goblin magic, that is." Hagrid whispered behind Heather after they both stepped out of the cart. "Anyone other than a Gringott's goblin try that, they'll jus' get sucked righ' into the door." At that dark pronouncement, Heather looked into the room that was revealed to see just what could need such extreme protection. But instead of some amazing treasure, or maybe even more gold than what was in her own vault, all she saw was a grubby little package on the floor. "Wha-" But before she could finish her question, Hagrid scooped up the package and placed it in his coat with a wink. "Hogwarts business. Sorry Heather. Now, let's get back onto that infernal contraption and out of this building." He said with a shiver that even Heather could feel.

Soon enough, the two of them had left the caves and Heather had thanked Griphook for his help. But instead of replying, he grumbled something and turned away. "Don' take it personally." Hagrid told her as they walked back into the bright sunlight of the street. "Goblins are notoriously bad tempered, an' don' particularly like wizards too much. But now." He said with a smile, "we have get you yer school supplies, don' we?"

The next few hours were a whirl of shops and supplies. Heather never had much of a fondness for shopping, no matter what her aunt and friends did, but she had to admit, looking at all the fascinating items that were for sale, she was having quite a bit of fun. She and Hagrid got through the apothecary, the cauldron store, and the bookseller before finally taking a break for lunch. "Come on Heather." Hagrid gently, at least for his standards, pulled Heather away from a group of children staring at a broomstick labeled "Nimbus 2000" which seemed to enthrall the young girl. "Will I really be able to learn to fly, Hagrid?" She asked, excited. "Yes, but firs' years aren't allowed a broom. No point hopin' for somethin' you can't have." Hagrid answered her. Heather sent one more wistful look at the broom, then nodded and followed Hagrid back into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hey Hagrid," Heather started, hesitantly, as Tom bustled to make their orders. "There's something I've been wondering. Why does everyone seem to know me? I'm pretty sure I've never met these people in my life." Hagrid stared at her incredulously for a moment, then hit himself in the forehead with enough force to push his chair back. "Of course! I completely forgot! Heather, people know you because you're famous."

Heather stared at the giant. Famous? Her? "I'm sorry? I've been in a flat in London for ten years, what could I have done to make me famous?" She asked. Hagrid waited for Tom to get back with their lunches before answering. "Well, ah, I don' know how ter put this. You know yer parents were murdered, yes?" Heather nodded and Hagrid took a moment to take a bite of his stew, although it looked like he was more wasting time, "Well, they were killed by a very evil man. In fact, he was known as the darkest wizard o' our time. Anyone who crossed him, he targeted. Anyone he targeted, he killed."

"What was his name?" Hagrid looked uncomfortable at this question. "Well, we don' say his name. Too evil to think 'bout, see? Oh, don't look at me like that. Fine, his name is," Hagrid leaned in close, and Heather followed suit, "Voldemort" Hagrid shuddered and took an extra large gulp of stew. "Vol-" Heather started, about to ask another question.

"Don't say it! I can' handle 'is name. Just call 'im You-Know-Who." Hagrid whispered. He did look slightly distressed, but that may have just been because of the conversation. "Okay" Heather relented, "But that doesn't answer why I seem to be so famous." At this point Hagrid smiled. "Well, when You-Know-Who tried killed your parents, he also tried ter kill you."

"But I'm still alive." Heather said, this was getting confusing now. "Exactly. Somethin' 'bout you stopped him. In fact, you stopped him so well, he disappeared. Hasn't been seen since. You ended a war, and are seen as the savior of the wizarding world. In fact, yer nickname is The-Girl-Who-Lived." Hagrid told her. "Now, enough of this talk. Finish yer lunch, we still ha' shoppin' to do." Seeing this dismissal, Heather ducked her head down and began to eat. The rest of lunch was completed in silence.

Laadeedaadeedoodeeday

* * *

Welp, this chapter is a bit long, but it should make up for the amount of time it took to write. Turns out winter break breeds procrastination more than school does. This chapter was actually supposed to be longer, but I'm cutting it to make everyone's lives easier, and so you guys get something to read in case I don't get the next bit done before I start my 3 weeks of little to no time to spend on the computer! Well, I hope you all enjoyed, see you next time!

Dreamkinen


	5. A Wand Most Unique

Chapter 4 is here! Not much to say, except enjoy!

I do not own any part of the Harry Potter Universe. All places and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Laadeedaadeedoodeeday

* * *

Chapter 4

"It seems all that is left on the list are my robes and a wand." Heather said as they walked back through the gateway to Diagon Alley. She was holding her letter while Hagrid carried their various bags. "Aye, but yer forgettin' one thing." Hagrid told her with a smile, "A pet! No self-respectin' student doesn't have a pet with them! An' how 'bout I get it fer you, as a birthday present." Heather looked up from her list, "A pet? But Aunt Petunia doesn't let animals in the flat." She told him flatly. Both she and Dudley had tried to break that rule many times over the years, and failed. "Well then, we'll just get you somethin' she can't argue abou'!" He said simply, patting her on the back and pitching her forward. " That removes toads. They're very unfashionable anyways. Cats can take care o' themselves, yer Aunt may even come to enjoy one. But owls are bloody useful and you can keep 'em out of the way. Okay! It's settled, I'm gettin' yah an owl! Cats make me sneeze anyways."

It didn't take long for Hagrid and Heather to leave Eyelop's Owl Emporium with a cage and a sleeping snowy owl, held by a very quiet Heather. This was the most beautiful present she had ever received, even better than her cherished charm bracelet, it left her completely lost for words. But they still had shopping to do, and she couldn't stay in her daze of gratitude for long. Hagrid had already listed what was left to buy, and they had agreed that she would go to Madam Malkin's on her own, with Hagrid being unable to comfortably stand in the shop, and believing that Heather would be able to handle herself when buying her robes, with help from Malkin, he assured her.

With Hagrid's comforting presence just outside the door, Heather entered the shop. It was bright and dry, and covered with robes of different colors, fabrics, and cuts. A woman she assumed was Madam Malkin was already measuring a black robe on a tallish boy with a thin, pointed face and pale blond hair. It took a moment for Malkin to notice Heather standing in the doorway. She appraised her for a moment before saying sharply, "Another for Hogwarts? Just stand on that pedestal. My assistant will get you some robes, and I will be able to help you shortly." It was definitely an order, but it was said kindly enough, and Heather followed what she said. Malkin bustled off to get an assistant, and the blond boy turned to Heather. He had a very haughty air around him, which was only strengthened when he began talking. "So you're a first year too? What house do you think you're going to be in? My entire family's been in Slytherin. Of course, If I was put in Hufflepuff I'd probably riot." This sudden conversation surprised Heather. Houses? What was he talking about? But the boy didn't seem to take her silence as rude, as he continued talking in a dry drawl, as if the entire situation bored him. Heather felt a sudden burst of annoyance at the thin boy. "My father has many connections throughout the ministry, he said he would be able to get me a broom, but seems to have caught some sort of annoying hitch." Heather interrupted him at this point, "But first years aren't allowed brooms." The boy looked at her with a bored stare, "That's the point. First years also don't play Quidditch, but that won't stop me. My Father agreed. Who are your parents by the way?" He asked her, suddenly, giving her another appraising look. "Do they work for the ministry?"

"They're dead." Heather told him simply. The more this boy talked, the less she wanted to talk to him. "Oh, sorry." The boy said, although he didn't sound particularly sorry at all. Just then, Madam Malkin came back with an assistant, who handed Heather a black robe from the pile in her arms and told her to put it on. The conversation was paused as Madam Malkin finished the boy's robes and the assistant began pinning up Heather's. Once the boy was free of the robes, he turned back to Heather, who was getting increasingly short of patience, and whispered to her, "See that large man out there? I think that's the oaf Dumbledore hired to work the grounds. Completely barbaric, my Father told me he doesn't understand how he got hired in the first place." This was the statement that finally broke Heather, "His name's Hagrid, and he's a much nicer person than you seem to be." She snapped at him in an undertone, conscious of the assistant pinning up her robes. The boy seemed taken aback at this statement, but quickly regained his composure. But before he could make a comeback, Madam Malkin gave him a bag with his robes, and told him the price. While this was going on, the assistant took out a piece of parchment that, with a wave of her wand, and the placement of a quill, floated in the air. She then got back to work as she began to get Heather's information. "Your full name, Miss? We need it for your records, so you can get your robes more easily on your next visit."

Heather answered quietly, trying to ignore the blond boy, who was now slowly removing money from a large bag, as if trying to show off his wealth. "Heather Potter, ma'am." The assistant paused for a moment, her eyes flicking up to Heather's forehead, where her fringe hid her scar, before putting back on the professional air she had before. Madam Malkin seemed not to notice, a customer was a customer after all. But the blond boy froze in place, staring at her with a curious look on his face. But the spell was soon broken, and he quickly paid, grabbed his bags, and practically ran out of the shop. Heather had a sinking feeling his father would be hearing all about this little meeting very soon, and, by the sound of his father, it wouldn't be too good for her.

It took about half an hour for Heather to be finished as Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, they had to take in her robes a bit more than expected. But when she left the shop she had a bag full of new robes and had successfully calmed down after her meeting with the annoying blond boy. Now that she thought of it, he reminded her of a boy at her school. He was the richest boy there, and quite enjoyed rubbing it in her and Dudley's face. But that bully was in the past, as were all of them, and Hagrid had been waiting outside for quite a while. So she met him with a smile on her face, and he led her their next, and final destination that day.

"Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." Heather read aloud, "382? Is the shop really that old?" She asked, looking up at the fading sign. It certainly didn't look that old, but then again, it could have been remodeled. About a hundred years ago, though. Hagrid simply chuckled at her question and opened the door for her. He once again decided not to enter the small shop. So Heather cautiously stepped through the doorway, unsure of what to expect.

The front room was dark and musty, and the walls were stacked haphazardly to the ceiling with long boxes of various colors. When she entered, it seemed the shop was completely empty, but as she looked back at the front desk, there was an old man standing, watching her with large, patient, gray eyes hidden behind a pair of shining spectacles. Something about the man seemed to unnerve Heather, but at the same time, he seemed to be a man to be trusted, if not with a life, then at least with your money. "Mr. Ollivander?" She asked, tentatively. The young girl was having the distinct urge to run back to Hagrid and away from the man's piercing gaze. "Yes, and I believe you to be Miss Potter? I was wondering when I would be seeing you in my shop." Mr. Ollivander smiled, although it did not reach his eyes. "We'll start with your measurements. Which hand is your wand arm then?"

"I'm right handed. So I guess right?" She told him, and immediately a measuring tape began to measure her right hand and arm. "You said you were expecting me? Why?" She asked, a bit more confident now. Mr. Ollivander seemed to be a nice man, although she had trouble meeting his eyes. It was a good thing he had begun bustling around the shop, picking out boxes here and there and laying them on the counter. "Why, because almost every Hogwarts student comes to me. Your parents as well." Heather jerked her attention away from the seemingly wayward tape, which at that point was done measuring her waist and moving on to her feet. "You got my parents' wands?" The old man looked at her, and Heather resisted the urge to flinch away. "You look remarkably like your mother, did you know that?" Heather was taken aback slightly by this sudden statement. No one, not even her aunt, had told her that before. "I remember when she first came here and got her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, willow. Swishy, good wand for charm work. Pity, really." The old man paused for a moment, seeming to be stuck in a memory. But that only lasted a moment, before he smiled again and waved his wand, causing the measuring tape to fall on the floor. He handed her a wand, which the young girl took gingerly. "8 inches, oak, dragon heartstring. Come on, give it a try!"

Heather did as he told, flicking the wand and feeling slightly silly as she did it. Ollivander quickly took the wand back from her, tutting, "Well, I guess we shall try another. Unicorn hair, 10 inches, nice and springy." This wand also failed, although a little more catastrophically; It burst apart a good chunk of Mr. Ollivander's wall. But the old shopkeeper fixed it with a flick of his wrist and happily gave her another wand. This continued for quite a while, with varying levels of destruction or ineffectiveness coming from every wand, and Mr. Ollivander becoming more and more excited. "A tricky customer, haven't had one of those in a while. Well, there's one wand we haven't tried. Now this will be interesting." Ollivander said no more about what was so interesting, and wordlessly handed Heather the wand. As soon as she held it, bracing for the coming explosion, Heather felt an oddly comforting warmth spread through her fingers. With a flick of her wrist, golden sparks fell out of the end of the wand. Heather couldn't help but grin broadly. Ollivander clapped his hands, although his face seemed oddly serious. "Well well, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Now this is interesting."

Heather looked at Mr. Ollivander with a feeling of unease, "Why is it interesting? Is this an odd wand?" She asked. Ollivander looked at her, his silvery eyes piercing. "All wands we make are unique, just as every phoenix or dragon or unicorn is unique. But the phoenix who gave a tail feather for your wand gave only one other feather. It just so happens that the wand holding that feather is the very same wand that gave you that scar." Ollivander's eyes momentarily flicked upward to Heather's fringe, where the all-too-well known scar was hidden. But no more was said on that subject, and Heather wordlessly paid the 8 galleons for her new wand and close to fled from the shop. However nice a man Ollivander was, for he did seem nice, she didn't want to have to set foot in his store any time soon if she could help it.

"So, How'd it go?" Hagrid asked her when they met again right in front of the shop. He seemed to have used his time to buy some ice cream. Heather told him what happened in the shop, and showed him her new wand as they stood in front of the apothecary, eating their ice creams. Hagrid laughed when Heather told him of Mr. Ollivander and his fascination and reaction to her wand. "Don' take ol' Ollivander to heart. Sure, he's a lil' odd, bu' he's the bes' in the business, no doubt." Heather couldn't help but relax under Hagrid's sure grin, and was able to enjoy her ice cream much more after that, although she wasn't the biggest fan of raspberry.

With their shopping done, Heather was more than ready to go home and sort through her emotions and prizes from what was most definitely an eventful day. Hagrid suggested he take her home, but Heather wasn't sure it would be a good idea for Hagrid to go back to their flat. She consented to him taking her to the door of the building. Heather had to admit, it was nice having Hagrid to help carry her heavy chest filled with wizarding items while she carried her as-of-yet-unnamed owl. Once at the door, Hagrid gave her a rib-breaking hug and handed her a ticket. "Now, I won' be able to take you to the train, and yes, you ge' ter school by train. I will definitely see you at school though. The train leaves at 11 am exactly, so don' be late!" Heather waved at Hagrid until he turned to another block, then sighed and began to work on getting her trunk up to their third floor apartment where, hopefully, Aunt Petunia was busy making dinner.

Laadeedaadeedoodeeday.

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Yay! 4th chapter's done! Thanks for all the favorites and reviews, please keep them coming!

Dreamkinen


	6. All Aboard!

Chapter 5! I've been bad and procrastinated finishing this for I think 4 months now? But It's summer, and don't have all the time in the world, but I have more than I did over second semester.

I own no part of the Harry Potter universe, including settings and characters. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling

Laadeedaadeedoodeeday

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Chapter 5

The next month passed all too quickly for the Evans-Potter household. Petunia had to double her shifts at the law firm, as the other secretary was on maternity leave. So, even without her night classes, Heather and Dudley were on their own more often than not. Dudley spent his time wandering London with his friends, or studying for public school with Heather. The single Potter of the house, on the other hand, spent most of her time either with Lindsay and Dudley, or reading her new school books. She found she was depending on her one true friend quite a bit with her impending move. It was hard on both girls, especially when Heather found out that Petunia had to go to work on September first, and couldn't take her to King's Cross. The train station, while fairly close, was too far to walk, especially with Heather's heavy trunk and owl, who had been christened Hedwig shortly after coming home. But Lindsay came to the rescue, saying her mom was off that day, and might be able to take her. A week before September first, Lindsay's mom called and said she would be happy to take her, but had to be home shortly after to watch Lindsay's younger brother, and wouldn't be able to stay long. But that was all Heather needed, and she was able to pack with much more gusto.

Before long, it was the morning of September First. Heather was up at the crack of dawn, more out of nerves than anything else. Lindsay and her mother were expected at nine, where they would have breakfast and be out by ten. They would be at the station by ten thirty, and then Heather would be off. Dudley would be going with them, as he didn't start school for another week. Petunia would have left for work before Lindsay came. She took her time showering and getting ready, but still had plenty of time left by the time she had put on her t-shirt and jeans, and dragged a comb through her short hair. Dudley was still asleep in the bed next to her, so Heather took the chance to take another look at the ticket that was sitting on her bedside table. "Platform nine and three quarters," She murmured to herself. The number of the platform had been giving her quite a bit of confusion, although she hadn't shared it with anyone but Dudley, who answered simply that she would find it when she got there. "Well, nothing to do about it, I guess." She decided, and proceeded to throw a well-aim pillow at Dudley; he really had been asleep far too long.

A knock on the door signified the arrival of Heather's best friend and her mother. Heather ran to the door, but not without noticing that Petunia must have left shortly before then, her dishes were in the sink and the kitchen was freshly cleaned. Heather felt a pang that her aunt hadn't stayed long enough to say goodbye. They had barely spoken over that month, and now they wouldn't see each other until Christmas. But now was not the time to think about such things, and she opened the door with a smile, half expecting the tackle-hug that Lindsay then laid upon her. "Oh, Heather! Why do you have to leave! I'm not going to see you forever now!" Lindsay squealed, before finally letting go of her best friend and flicking back her long strawberry blonde hair. That reaction pretty well described the relationship of the two girls. Lindsay, the more social and girly of the two, would get Heather, who was more quiet and more of a tomboy, into various adventures, which Heather would then get them out of. But no matter how different the two were, there was no arguing that they were inseparable. That was one of the reasons Lindsay suggested that her mother take her to school, and why Heather was slightly dreading that farewell more than the others. So instead, to answer her friend, Heather simply tacked her right back, leaving both girls on the floor and giggling helplessly while Lindsay's mother watched the two with a small smile on her face. As soon as Dudley walked in, yawning, Lindsay's mother broke the two up and the little group, both girls still smiling and whispering, began breakfast.

It wasn't long before a trunk, three children, one holding an owl, and a thankfully patient mother were all packed into a mini-van and on the way across the city to King's Cross Station. While Lindsay and Heather had a loud and tear-filled (On Lindsay's side) farewell, Lindsay's Mother and Dudley went to get a trolley. Lindsay's mother had to go to work very shortly, so Heather would be going on alone as soon as her trolley arrived. "You know this will be the last we see of each other until Christmas Break? You _will _be coming back for break, right?" Lindsay demanded once both had calmed down. The trolley had arrived, and Heather and Dudley were getting Heather's luggage into place. Dudley gave a large sniff as his sign of agreement. He had told Heather the night before that as an eleven-year-old and the only man in the house, he wasn't allowed to cry. But that didn't mean he didn't want to, or at least that what it looked like to Heather. She looked at her struggling cousin and her best friend, "I can't find any reason not to come back, Linds" Heather replied with a grin.

Soon Heather had gotten her goodbye from Lindsay and her mother, and even a hug from Dudley, and was watching the car drive away. But one look at her watch made her let out a small yelp and push her way into the station. She had a feeling it would be bad to miss this train.

But once she had made her way into the station she realized her biggest problem once again: She had no idea where she was going. "Platform nine and three quarters," She mumbled, extracting her ticket out of her pocket and examining it as she walked. "Hagrid could have at least included a map." But just as she was about to commit herself to humiliation and ask one of the guides, she heard a loud motherly voice out of the din, "Come on, don't get separated. Look at this place, full of muggles." It was coming from a red-haired woman leading a chain of equally red-haired children of different ages, most with trolleys just like hers. One of them even had an owl. There was no doubt that this was a wizarding family. Seeing as they seemed to know where they were going, or at least the mother did, Heather followed them to the space between platforms nine and ten, where they stopped in front of a seemingly normal wall. But from what Heather remembered in Diagon Alley, it seemed there was no such thing a normal wall. Her suspicions seemed to have been correct when the oldest child walked toward the wall and seemed to disappear. "Okay, Fred, you next." The woman said, pointing to one of the next-oldest children, who seemed to be an identical twin with the boy next to him. "I'm George, And you seriously call yourself our mother?" He said with a smile. The woman, shook her head and replied, a little frazzled, "Of course, George. Go through." But the boy grinned, "I'm just kidding, I am Fred." He said, before running at the wall and disappearing, closely followed by the real George.

There was now only the woman, a younger girl who was closely hugging her mother's side, and a boy who looked about her age, if much taller. He had a long nose and a freckly face. All of the family, especially the mother, who was shorter and cheerfully plump, had friendly faces. Usually those who would hurt or tease her looked a bit meaner, so Heather decided to take the chance.

"Umm, excuse me. The um, how do I," But when the older woman turned to look at Heather, her confidence failed, and she looked at her trainers, hoping her face wasn't turning red. But it seemed luck was on her side, and when Heather heard that same motherly voice say, "Do you not know how to get onto the platform?" She looked up to see the woman smiling kindly at her. "It can be a little surprising. Don't worry, it's Ron's first time as well." Heather looked over to the tall boy who had to be Ron, who smiled. She noticed there was some sort of dirt on his long nose. "It's really very simple." The woman continued. "Just walk straight through that wall there. You can go at a bit of a run if you're nervous."

Heather looked at the wall the woman pointed at, and straightened her back slightly. The older boys had done it, and there was no way she was going to lose her cool to a wall. She looked at what was left of the very red-haired family, and showed what she hoped was a smile, "Thank you very much." She wasn't nervous, it was just a wall. She had to catch the train. Taking her trolley, Heather began to run towards the wall. In the last seconds, she closed her eyes, expecting an impact. She slowed to the point of stopping when she felt nothing and opened her eyes to a fully working train platform.

There was a cacophony of noises surrounding her, both from people and various animals. It was a mess of colors, smells, and sounds, even more than Diagon Alley was. Above all was a large red train labeled "Hogwarts Express". Hoping to get out of the din and into some cleaner air, Heather made a beeline for the first open compartment she saw. Just as she began to struggle to get her heavy chest up the steep stairs of the train car, the two red-headed twins seemed to appear out of nowhere. "It seems we have found a poor damsel in distress on this lonely train station platform, George my good man." Said one with a mock bow, "It seems so Master Fred. Would you like some help, Ma'am?" Heather, who was already slightly out of breath from her first attempt with the trunk, giggled slightly at the twin's obvious antics and nodded. The one called Fred quickly grabbed the other side of the chest, but it was soon clear that Heather would not be able to help in this situation. "Hold on there, you might break it if you lift it so fast." George said, before taking Heather's place. The two got the chest up with a bit less struggle, and Heather thanked them with a smile. "No need to thank us Miss…"

"Heather. Heather Potter. And I should probably find a place to sit. Thank you anyway!" Heather said, before following her trunk into the car, leaving two slightly speechless boys outside.

"Was that-"

"I think it was, my dear brother."

Both boys then grinned to each other and ran to tell their mother about their new-found first year.

Laadeedaadeedoodeeday

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So I'm cutting this chapter short simply because I like this as a stopping point and I'm feeling guilty for not having any new content in a while. The next chapter will be up soon, and, yes, life is short so am I, Heather will be making friends. Thanks to you and all my other followers and reviewers! I will try to make you proud!


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